The Road to WrestleMania: A Path of Enlightenment
by PrincessKanoniKotori
Summary: John Morrison is determined to make 2012 his year and that starts with his Road to WrestleMania. But when he is targeted by CM Punk, he quickly gets sucked into something that is deeper than championship belts.
1. Chapter 1

19th DECEMBER 2011

_8:45pm outside of the Amherst Pepsi Arena. John Morrison stands on the branch of a tall tree. He supports himself by holding the leaves. Morrison has been in this position for hours, meditating and waiting for the fans to gather. _

It had been six months. Six months, two weeks, and four days since John Morrison had found himself lying face up in that ring, wide eyed, and desperately gasping for breath. He smirked and thrust a shaky hand through his thick brown hair. He couldn't believe after all this time he could _still_ feel the rage rising in the pit of his stomach. He bit back a frown and said quietly to himself, "Non-sexy frowns are for unattractive people..."

And yet despite his small distraction, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to that day, _that match_. Versus Drew McIntyre. Yes... John shook his head, allowing the wind to gently push his hair from his face. Two years and McIntyre still wouldn't get off of his case. Although to be fair, it was John's fault. Perhaps if McIntyre wasn't running around singing that he was "The Chosen One", he wouldn't have gotten the beat down he had coming. And maybe Morrison wouldn't have been sidelined.

The frown started to creep up in his cheeks.

He remembered it all so clearly- Michael Cole's cackling that "_Parkour couldn't save the prince this time._" He remembered the buzz in the air, the persistent sting in his ears. He could remember a faint voice in his ear that spoke of "prophecy and his_ return_" as he spotted the life evaporating off of his skin. And how could he forget that panicky numbness that started in his head and spread throughout the body he lost control of as he closed his eyes.

_Something weird's happening._

Of course at that point, John was starting to slip away. But these were definitely the fuels of his fire, the darkness in his eyes as the doctor began, "_A broken neck._" John had closed his eyes and stopped listening. _Funny_, he had thought, _this definitely isn't the way Kurt Angle described his happening_.

"_There are many different ways to suffer a broken neck. In yours, certain vertebrae-"_

"_How long_?"

The doctor had looked startled and asked for clarification.

"_How long before I can get back in the ring?_"

With rigorous rehabilitation, proper care, and a determined attitude, the doctor suggested _maybe_ a year, a year and a half. Damages to the neck were serious medical injuries and needed to be properly attended to and...

_Six months_, John decided, resting back in the hospital bed. _Six months and McIntyre's going to PAY._

But John was more than a little disappointed- he was a few weeks late. Those goddamn road agents... insisting that he spend a little time shaking off the ring rust in FCW. John Morrison was a star- he didn't accumulate ring rust. _This is why we don't have road agents in the Palace of Wisdom._

Even that small joke could not stop the fury breaking John's face. He snatched off the sunglasses that adorned his face and stared at the Amherst Pepsi Centre. The people crowding around, the civilian buzz, the building where _he_ had set foot. _He_ had breathed the air, eaten the food, and pissed in the urinals by now.

John jumped down from the tree branch and landed softly on his feet. The crowd of rabid fans congregating, waiting to scream that he had the charisma of a retarded fish that was raped by a retarded seal, waiting to call him nothing but a pretty boy spot monkey, hell waiting for a piece of _any _WWE superstar who should go by?

He had missed the fans.

But he had a job to do. Regaining that smirk, he slid the sunglasses back on and uttered, "I'm John Morrison... and when I get through with Drew McIntyre, he's going to get plastic surgery to look like Kane."


	2. Chapter 2

19th DECEMBER 2011

_9:07pm, backstage in the Amherst Pepsi Arena. As word spreads of last minute changes and arrivals, the entire area is busier than ever and workers are rushing with coffee and folders. Amid all of the chaos, John Morrison takes careful steps, not getting in anyone's way, but not moving for anyone. He is shortly noticed and the buzz turns to a whisper._

"Holy shit, it's Morrison."

That was the first hushed whisper that John could make out. He didn't bother with any others.

Instead, he kept walking with an aura that the boys backstage admitted they had never seen from the young superstar before. He no longer maintained eye contact, he merely looked through everyone. Already in his ring gear, his abs were tighter than ever. One thing that John didn't want was anyone reporting to the boss that he was off his game.

"Well, shut the front door! It really _is _Morrison!"

That was a voice John would stop for. He smiled and removed his sunglasses. "Hello Cena."

"Oh! Six months off and it's 'hello Cena'. Turn around and give me some skin, man!"

Morrison turned and Cena pulled him into a bro hug. _Man_, it felt like a lot longer than six months. Even with his five days a week road tour, media promotion, and amusingly enough his spare moments tweeting, Cena had tried to see Morrison, to pep him up, but the Guru of Greatness had stopped answering calls, tweets, texts, emails, any contact with the brothers was gone. It worried Cena, but he understood the need to focus all too well and honestly, the WWE superstars admittedly didn't have the greatest reputation when it came to helping each other focus.

He smiled and folded his massive arms. "So... what have YOU been up to?"

Morrison gave him an easy smile. "Ah, the usual. Hours upon hours of exhausting physical therapy, not turning my head for weeks on end, and planning my revenge."

Cena raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm all about fighting the big dogs no matter how much of an underdog the challenger is kid, but damn, don't you think it's a little soon to be after-"

"Oh my God! John!"

Both Morrison and Cena turned as Trish Stratus ran towards them. Morrison smiled and hugged her, "Hey! Trish, what are you doing here?"

"Eh, retirement is overrated. Tough Enough was a great experience so I'm a trainer now," she explained with a grin.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," she grinned.

Morrison shook his head, and then his smile disappeared. "John, could I talk to Trish privately?"

"As privately as you can get in a backstage hallway," Cena snorted as he walked past them.

Morrison looked down at Trish and began, "Look, about WrestleMania-"

"Up bup bup! Look, it's all behind us. I did some pretty dumb things when I was coming up." Trish assured him, brushing it off.

"I'm going to make it up to you," he said firmly.

"What, are you going to dedicate your first match back to me?" she teased.

"Ha! I wouldn't exactly call that 'making it up to you', Stratus."

Trish rolled her eyes and John narrowed his eyes at the faction approaching them. "The New Nexus," John snapped.

CM Punk separated himself from the other six members. "Please Morrison. I know that it's uh, _been a while_ but everyone has taken to referring to us as simply The Nexus."

"Is that so?"

"They don't have much of a choice when they're under our feet," Punk sneered, stepping closer to Morrison. He had to stop himself from gagging. This... _this_ was the man he'd have to take out? Pathetic.

"Um yeah, Punk, John and I were actually having a conversation here so..." She put a finger to his chest and pushed him back.

Frowning, Punk smacked her hand away and hissed, "Well, the _men_ were talking sweetheart."

"Punk..."

"Who do you think you are, speaking to me that way?" Punk snapped.

"Oh, you know who I am," she smiled back.

Punk chuckled and nodded at her, "Yeah, you're the one who barked like a dog for Mr. McMahon's amusement. You _had_ to have been high to do that."

"Actually Punk, I don't do drugs," she corrected him.

"I see. Then you're a hypocrite of the highest order to be associating with this trash," Punk countered, gesturing to Morrison. "This... 'man' who entices people with the easy way out of a land of carefree and loose morals. Path of Enlightenment? More like Path of Endangerment."

John shook his head and laughed, "Yeah Punk, sure."

"Oh I'm serious, Jonathon. You're so-called Path of Enlightenment? It has led you to a Palace of Mediocrity. As your former partner chased the WWE title and _won_ it, where were you? Rapping with R-Truth. What about when R-Truth started chasing the title? Where were you? Oh yeah. Destroyed when Truth went batshit crazy because of your little plan. Face it John. You are absolutely nothing in this business. And it's an insult to _me_ that I have to get in that ring after one of your attempts at a match."

_We don't let unattractive people get to us in The Palace of Wisdom_, Morrison told himself as he balled his fists. "Is that right?"

"That's right. I'm serious... as serious as a _broken neck_." Punk gave him a smile, then led the Nexus away.

Trish put a hand over her mouth then turned to Morrison. "You okay?"

He didn't answer. He didn't even hear her. John's eyes were locked on the place Punk once stood.

"John...?" Trish hit him on the chest and his head snapped down to her. "Hey, he's a dick; don't let him get to you."

"Serious as a broken neck..."

"John, focus. C'mon, Punk isn't worth being sidelined so close to WrestleMania season..."

"So, you think he's right? I can't beat Punk?" He demanded.

"No, John, listen. You just got back from a career ending injury. Just relax."

He scoffed then started walking.

Trish stood dumbfounded. From training with him to that whole fiasco at WrestleMania 27 to now... it seemed like there was always something new to learn about John Morrison. But she couldn't let him get hurt. "Where are you going?" she called.

"I've got a match!" he shouted back. Screw Punk and screw her too if she was going to side with him. He had heard McIntyre was the Intercontinental Champion and he issued weekly unanswered challenges for his title. He didn't have time for CM Punk and he didn't have time for Trish Stratus.


	3. Chapter 3

19th DECEMEBER 2011

_10:45pm, WWE ring. Intercontinental Champion Drew McIntyre stands with his girlfriend Kelly Kelly carrying out what has become a weekly tradition for him on RAW. Booker T, Josh Matthews, and Michael Cole call the action._

"I gotta say Cole, even though McIntyre's in my favourite five, it's a li'l cheap to be calling out contenders, know what I'm sayin'?" Booker T turned to Michael Cole for back up. Cole just stared at him. "Booker... he's CHAMPION. He's the Chosen One! Everyone's too afraid to fight him, how would he get challenges? Don't make yourself sound stupid on the longest running weekly episodic show on cable TV!"

Cole rolled his eyes and addressed his Cole Miners. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry you had to endure that but as my... partner just stated, we are live on RAW and Intercontinental Champion Drew McIntyre is issuing a challenge to the locker room for the third week in a row!"

"Do you think anyone will answer the call this week?" Josh Matthews asked.

Cole sighed. Jerry "The King" Lawler may be an annoying old suck up but goddammit, he couldn't wait for his return.

In the ring, Drew put his arm around Kelly Kelly. With Kharma disposed of, Kelly had finally felt safe and willing to admit that the title around Drew's waist made him a little more attractive. Without an enemy in the world, he didn't have to worry about losing it. Drew beamed at the TitanTron. "So! No one will face The Chosen One? No one has enough integrity to challenge me? Who has the courage to pry this title from my waist?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought. I-"

With one chord, the crowd exploded.

"THAT'S JOHN MORRISON RIGHT THERE!" Booker screamed.

"OH MY GOD MORRISON'S RECOVERED FROM HIS HORRIBLE NECK INJURY!" Josh exclaimed.

"Yeah. It's Morrison. It's not like he died guys, come on," Cole sighed again.

Kelly heard the microphone drop and looked up at Drew. His eyes were wide and he had let go of her. "Drew? What's wrong? What's-" She squealed as Drew pushed her against Morrison who had just stepped into the ring. Still glaring at Drew, Morrison caught her and gently pushed her aside. Drew was sliding through the ropes, falling over himself, never taking his awes-stricken eyes off of Morrison.

_This man broke my neck,_ John thought as anger rose through him. _He took away SIX MONTHS of my career and now he's acting like a terrified child._

"What's wrong Drew?" John screamed. "You SHOULD be scared of me!"

Drew just backed against the Spanish announcer table. _What is he doing here? If he's here that means... WrestleMania..._ His eyes widened impossibly. "Get out of here Morrison!" he yelled back. "You aren't supposed to be here!"

Enraged, Morrison jumped up on a turnbuckle.

"Think Morrison! You shouldn't be here!"

But John was past listening. He steadied himself on the turnbuckle. _He doesn't know what he's doing! I'm the Chosen One... I've got to stop him!_

Morrison had already jumped from the turnbuckle. Drew opened his arms and closed his eyes as the crowd gasped and Booker screamed "NO DAWG!" He prepared for the worst... but nothing happened. Drew opened his eyes and gasped himself.

Mason Ryan was no more than inches in front of him, so close in fact that he could see the sweat roll down his tan skin. Normally Drew wouldn't hesitate to run.

But normally Mason Ryan doesn't have a kicking and screaming John Morrison in a bear hug.

"LET GO OF ME NEANDERTHAL!" John screeched, grabbing at Drew.

Ryan had different plans.

Specific plans from his leader. Plans that included putting Morrison out for another six month. He charged the turn post, slamming Morrison into the cold, exposed metal. It knocked the wind out of the young Superstar and he gasped for breath. Ryan dropped him.

"Excellent work." Ryan grinned and turned to see David Otunga wiping blood off of his knuckles. He began to say something but smiled as the thunderous boos drowned him out. He slapped Ryan on the chest and the big man grabbed Morrison by the neck. Ryan hoisted him, forcing Morrison to choke, and tossed him into the ring.

Otunga slid in and saddled Morrison. He pressed a finger to Morrison's throat, tenderly at first, like a mother checking for anomalies, then jammed it. Morrison cried out and as he did the TitanTron suddenly filled with Cm Punk's face.

"Ha... ha... ha... well, Jonathon, you sure impressed me. You came out and you made a statement! Well, Jonathon, I wish I could say I respect that, but just like these past eight years you've called a wrestling career... you accomplished _nothing_." Slowly, Punk's face morphed from a sneer to a glare. "You will _never _be a fighter, Morrison. NEVER. I don't want to have to teach you this lesson AGAIN, so stay. Out. Of My. RING!" He snapped and Otunga let go. He stood and Ryan entered the ring. He picked up Morrison and slammed him so hard he blacked out.


	4. Chapter 4

19th DECEMBER 2011

_11:28pm. Backstage in the Amherst Pepsi Centre, John Morrison is on a cot as EMTs finish checking his neck for injury. He has his eyes closed, but is not asleep._

"No sign of dislocation..."

"He's moving his limbs..."

"Mr. Morrison, are you still with us?"

With his eyes still closed, John nodded, and threw his arm over his face. How could he have been so _stupid_? It was more than a mistake to turn his back on CM Punk and especially the Nexus. But why was he being singled out? Punk thought he was an inferior wrestler. He thought that Morrison had no right to be in that ring. Okay, fine. But was it really such a big deal?

"John?"

John pulled his arm down and looked. It was just Trish there. "Hey, John."

"I guess you saw what happened, huh?" he mumbled, putting his arm back.

"John..." she sat down beside him. "I don't think I need to tell you that CM Punk is crazy."

"We don't let crazy people in the Palace of Wisdom," he uttered.

"Don't make jokes, John. This is serious. Punk just sent you a message. You have to fight back."

John scoffed. "I don't have time for that. I really don't. Sorry Trish, but I have a plan and that doesn't involve Punk."

Trish took a deep breath silently. She didn't want to do this. John was so simple. But it _had_ to be done... "John, you didn't happen to see what they did to McIntyre, did you?"

"I was a little busy body checking a metal pole."

Trish ripped his arm from his face and snapped, "Otunga beat his face open John, I wouldn't have even recognised him if I hadn't seen him thirty seconds earlier!"

John just stared at her. "What?"

"What that means John, is that CM Punk wants your attention." Before he could say anything, Trish continued, "This could be your big chance John. Your chance to be taken seriously. Punk was obviously trying to take you out. He's afraid of you. You've got to show him that you _are_ a force to be reckoned with."

John didn't know what to say. In a very sad, twisted sort of way, he was flattered that Punk thought that _he_ was something to be afraid of. But then again, going toe to toe with Punk would be vastly differently from challenging McIntyre. Punk had six powerful bitter rookies on his side. John had, well...

"So?" Trish pressed. "What do you think about that?"

John stroked his goatee. Then he smiled. "I think 2012 is going to be the Year of John Morrison."


	5. Chapter 5

26th DECEMBER 2011

_9:38pm. It's the next week of RAW and CM Punk is in a locker room backstage. He is watching a closed-circuit television intently. This year, the Royal Rumble is going back to a 30-man match and qualifying matches are starting now. He has sent out David Otunga to fight for his spot. As the leader of Nexus, Punk is far too important to fight his own matches. He has the rest of the Nexus with him, sitting in chairs._

Punk tugged at his lip ring as Chris Masters gave Otunga a stiff shoulder block.

"Relax! David's gonna do fine!" Heath Slater assured his leader.

Punk spun around and glared at the young redheaded man. "_Relax_? _Relax_? Slater... I know that I don't make mistakes, so allowing you and Justin Gabriel to rejoin the Nexus wasn't an error on my part. However, I'm going to have to insist that you _shut your mouth_ for the rest of the night."

"But-"

"Harris! Would you kindly take Heath Slater outside and have a discussion with him?"

Husky Harris looked at Punk then grabbed the terrified Slater and dragged him out. Gabriel glared at Punk, who turned back to the monitor.

"Otunga will win. He will win, and then all of Nexus will dominate the Royal Rumble. I will defeat John Cena at WrestleMania."

"But what about that Shaman of Sexy, the Guru of Greatness, the Master of Marvellous, the-"

Punk silenced Michael McGuillicutty with another glare. "If you are referring to John Morrison, he's nothing of concern to me. You saw that we took care of him. He's no longer a threat to us or The Coming."

"About that, Punk, was that really a smart thing to do? He's going to be pretty pissed-"

CM Punk sighed impatiently. It was clear to him to even after a year, these headstrong rookies still hadn't learned. Despite what happened almost seven months ago, John Morrison was _not _a threat. He had absolutely no idea what The Darkness was thinking when he took out _John Morrison_ of all people. He leaned against the television and frowned. It was up to him... up to him to save the WWE. And he had to do whatever he needed to get to WrestleMania and keep the company safe. "You'll see. Just like these people. You, the WWE Universe, and all of these wrestlers need me to save them."

"You tried to save them from drugs and alcohol too and they didn't go for it." Gabriel pointed out.

"RYAN!" Punk shouted. "Take Justin Gabriel and have a talk with _him_!"

After the two were gone, McGuillicutty was quiet. After a few seconds, he realised that he was alone and Punk had no one to send him with for a "talk." "Hey Punk..."

"What is it?"

"Does Morrison know?"

Punk dropped his arms. "I highly doubt it. That's a fool, Michael McGuillicutty. A fool who doesn't understand just how much of a factor his presence is. He still thinks Drew McIntyre was the one to injure him."

"Well, didn't he see the light? He-"

Punk scoffed. "Even the announcers were blind. No one... no one except a few knows what really happened that night and that's how we must keep it."

He turned to see McGuillicutty's reaction. The former NXT contestant had a very confused look on his face. As far as he knew, no one in Nexus had known what happened. They were just as clueless as everyone else by the bodiless voice talking about "prophecy" and "return." They hadn't even known that Punk knew anything.

It was times like this when Michael felt that his mom was right and he was in a cult.

Punk groaned. Was it possible that _none_ of his team knew? That meant a whole lot of explaining. "Listen, seven months ago..."

A commotion started to erupt from the television.

"OH MY GOD! IT'S JOHN MORRISON! RIGHT THERE!" Booker T roared.

"WHAT'S MORRISON DOING OUT HERE? HE'S BEATING UP CHRIS MASTERS! HE'S BETING UP CHRIS MASTERS!" Josh yelled.

"Which of course means that David Otunga has been disqualified and Chris Masters is going to the Royal Rumble," Michael Cole said.

"WHAT?" Punk screamed, grabbing the television.

True enough, he saw John Morrison. He saw the referee lift a very confused Chris Master's arm in victory. And when the camera panned away, he saw Morrison on top of Otunga, repeatedly slamming his head onto the metal of the ramp.

"WHAT IS MORRISON DOING! OTUNG COULD HAVE A CONCUSSION!" Josh worried.

"THIS AIN'T RIGHT!" Booker T offered.

"Can we get a medic or referee or something out here?" Michael asked, looking around.

That's all Punk saw. Because his foot had gone through the screen of the set. He threw it across the room and covered his face. His plan. Derailed.

"So... what now?" McGuillicutty asked, just as the other four members returned, Slater with two swollen eyes.

Punk swallowed hard and growled. His most trusted and competent member of Nexus... the only one he had spoken to in full detail of the plan... was likely injured. He was no longer in the Royal Rumble which meant that he couldn't win it and he wasn't going to WrestleMania. Which meant that there was a chance Morrison was still going to WrestleMania and everything would be shot to hell. He had no backup plan. Who knew Morrison had it in him...

"Alright. Change of plans, people. John Morrison needs to be taken care of." He folded his arms and looked over his disciples. "This is what we're going to do..."


	6. Chapter 6

9th JANUARY 2012

_10:37pm, backstage in the Berkeley Stadium, RAW. It's been 3 weeks since John Morrison took out David Otunga and cost CM Punk his slot at the Royal Rumble. Punk has not been seen in the WWE since and Morrison has considered the feud finished. He has turned his sights back to WrestleMania and tonight is his contending match for a spot in the Royal Rumble. Trish Stratus is in the hall, watching Silent Rage Andy Levine talk about this being his year._

"Yo!" John Cena stepped up behind the brunette veteran.

Trish turned from the cringe worthy performance to face the WWE Champion. "The last time I heard you say 'yo', you were wearing a fake lock and calling yourself a Chain Gang Solder."

John chuckled. "It hasn't been _that_ long."

"Well, I never see you. We team up every now and again, but it seems like we never talk."

"I heard ya on that. Ever since John Morrison made his TRIUMPHANT RETURN!... I feel like I see you waaay more often now."

"Speaking of John..." Trish turned back to the backstage screen where Morrison was tossing his hair in slow motion. "I'm worried. I know Punk's pretty much vanished, but it's not like his to just take something like this without retaliation.

"Aw, please," Cena scoffed. "CM Punk is a coward. Trust me, I've... 'had differences' with Punk a few times, he's seen Morrison's ruthless aggression and he's backed off. No problem."

Trish didn't respond. Of course, she couldn't depend on John to see how dangerous this situation really was. He must have forgotten that CM Punk wasn't always the smart aleck bad guy who hides behind other people. He had been wrestling for over ten years. Those bags under his eyes, that cold glare, they didn't just come from sleepless nights...

Out in the ring, John Morrison shook his wrists and smirked at the TitanTron. He didn't know who was coming out, but it didn't even matter to him. He had scared off CM Punk, almost vanquishing the Nexus problem _on his own_. There was absolutely nothing that could stand in his way now and the WWE Universe believed in him. He was going to defeat them, win the Royal Rumble, and headline WrestleMania. It didn't even _matter_ who was going to come out.

"!"

John's smirk quickly melted into a frown as former WWE champion The Miz sauntered out. The crowd rained down with boos as he stood on the ramp and soaked it all in.

_He won the title by being a manipulative bastard. He can't stop you, _John assured himself, folding his arms.

The Miz jumped into the ring and smirked at John. "Really?" he mouthed, through the roar of the crowd.

Morrison didn't utter a word. He simply waited for the referee to ring the bell.

Then he tackled him.

The Miz kicked John off, forcing the acrobatic superstar in the ropes. He used the force to launch himself back at The Miz, who blocked it with an elbow to the face.

Morrison fell to the mat, grabbing his face.

"Aww, who are you, Dashing Cody Rhodes now? _My face! My face!_" The Miz mocked, grabbing Morrison by the hair.

Morrison sprang his feet forward and kicked The Miz in the face.

Over at the announcers table, Josh Matthews exclaimed, "I can't believe how viciously these two former partners are going at it!"

"Well, there's still a lot of bad blood between these two young athletes..." Booker T began.

"What?" Michael Cole snorted. "More like resentment on Morrison's part! He's just mad that The Miz is the Shawn Michaels and he's the Marty Jannetty!"

"Cole, I think you just mad 'cause you weren't Alex Riley!" Booker retorted, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a Mizfit. So what? Be a man and admit that you are too!" Cole snapped.

"Right, right, Josh, what you think? Josh?" Booker T turned to the wrestler turned interviewer. "Josh?"

Matthews was staring, agape at the ring. Booker looked over. "Oh shit."

Struck by the unfriendly profanity, Cole looked into the ring to see The Miz and Morrison back to back as they watched Justin Gabriel, Heath Slater, Michael McGuillicutty, Husky Harris, and Mason Ryan stood around the ring, staring at the two.

_Not again... _Morrison silently pleaded.

All five of them wore jeans and Top Rope Nexus hoodies. They said nothing, wore no emotion. Then, all at once, they turned to face Morrison.

Mason Ryan made a grab for Morrison's foot. John kicked at him, but the beast jerked his ankle, pulling him and slamming his face down on the mat. He and Husky Harris pulled Morrison onto the ground.

"Hey, HEY! You Nexus punks aren't ruining my match just because this moron ruined Punk's!" The Miz yelled, stepping towards the ropes. But Gabriel and Slater snatched his ankles and pulled him out. Slater smacked him and Gabriel shoved him against the outside barrier, forcing him to sit.

McGuillicutty dragged the referee up the ramp as Harris slid under the ring. Ryan followed, forcing a struggling Morrison to accompany them.


End file.
